There He Is
by JohnnysTuffMustangs
Summary: And the only thing I knew about myself was that my name was Harry James Potter. Post DH. Battle of Hogwarts didn't end quite the same. Now, a red-haired stranger is Harry's only hope. Eventual slash. Rating may change. Harry/Ron
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, readers! It's been a while, eh? I don't really know why I started writing this, but I did, and I didn't read it over, so I apologize if it's full of mistakes. Reviews would be helpful? Because I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this (x All I know is there's going to be some sort of slash...**

**Anyway, I don't own the characters. Have fun (: **

"There he is!" The tall, gangly, red haired boy was back, standing in my doorway. It had been the third time this week that he arrived, simply standing, curiously observing me. By now, sketches and paintings of this boy littered my room, as my mind tried desperately to remember a name – a memory. For I knew that I knew this boy. His presence never troubled me, and I almost felt safe when his blue eyes would linger upon my forehead. The trouble is, nobody else here believed me. I don't know why they would, but it didn't stop me from wishing someone else could see him. Nobody believed me because I was crazy. Everyone here is crazy. There are plenty of people that see dead family members and strangers at their doors.

This time, however, I was determined that someone else would see him. "Look!" I screamed to my roommate, an older man named Dedalus who had suffered a traumatic head injury at war. "Look!"

I turned from the red-haired stranger for a moment to lead my roommate's head, when I heard the crack. The crack that told me the stranger was gone, and I had lost my chance. Every time someone came near to seeing the man, there was a crack, and he was gone.

When I tried to explain this, I was put in solitary confinement for a week.

"Harry, dear," Dedalus said, his eyes and mind not quite meeting mine. "You know how these doctors feel about this man you keep seeing. They'll put you in the room again if you mention him. It was lonely in here on those nights." His head simply flopped back down to his pillow, his eyes fluttering. I sometimes truly wondered if he knew what he was saying.

"Right. Lonely," I repeated, finding refuge back under my own covers. But I myself could not fight off the feeling of loneliness. A part of me followed the stranger every time the faint crack penetrated my mind. I pulled out a pad of paper and quietly began to sketch his face for the hundredth time. He didn't look the same on my paper as he had that night – he was smiling on my picture, and he was clad in a pair of long, black robes. There was a rat on his shoulder, and for some reason, I found my own body and face standing beside him. Then, a girl. A girl with big frizzy hair that had the most genuine smile yet. I could never tell you where I got these details, but they seemed right to me. Ripping out the strange sketch, I folded it up and placed it under my pillow, hoping to feel secure enough to get at least a few hours of sleep.

The next day, the boy didn't come back.

I couldn't help but ask myself why. His appearances had become a security to me. Did this mean he had forgotten about me? Was he just a mirage, and my mind was finally beginning to heal? I found myself looking for him around corners – in the lunch line, in the bathroom, and even under my bed. He couldn't have abandoned me.

But the next week went by, and I didn't see him once. His face was blurred in my mind, and I couldn't bring about any more pictures of the man. I looked at the one – the one with the girl too – and my mind tried harder than ever to pull just one memory from the two unknown people. Nothing came.

A month quickly passed, and before I knew it, I was 19. It had been exactly two years ago that I had been admitted to the Institution, and it had been exactly two years of no progress, remembering only small details of a trip to the zoo, or a particularly rough day in Kindergarten. Nobody had claimed to know me, and the only thing I knew about myself was that my name was Harry James Potter. I didn't know how the oddly shape scar came to be on my forehead, where my parents were, or where I even came from. Two years, and nobody had come to rescue me.

It was also the day that Dedalus took his last breath. Early in the morning, the nurses came to take away his body. It didn't surprise me really – death seemed to be a fair escape from the pain he must have gone through every day. I was more worried about my next roommate. I had liked Dedalus, and although he never seemed to really be there, he held good conversation. I would miss him.

As expected, later that same day, Augustus was admitted to room 731. He seemed almost normal as we introduced ourselves, and although he was much older than me, I thought we may become friends. I showed him my paintings, and I told him about the red-haired stranger. He seemed fascinated, and for the first time in my life, I felt as if someone was really listening.

"So how long have you been here?" he asked in a deep voice that I couldn't help but admire.

"Two years. Two years today, actually. Don't ask about my prior life though, I really don't know much about it."

"And your old roommate. The one that died – does that happen often?"

"Deaths? Oh yeah. I mean. A lot of patients just get sick of it here and try to do themselves off. Some of us have diseases that finish us off for us. And no one really cares about us, do they? We'd be in those fancy, nice hospitals, not this piece of rubbish, right, mate? Do me a favor though," I added quickly. "Don't do yourself off that quickly. You seem like a nice guy, and I don't want a creep as a roommate."

"Wouldn't dream it," he said, eyeing me suspiciously. For a moment, I thought I saw something like fire in his eyes. I took a quick step backwards, and he immediately noticed. "What?"

"N-nothing."

He took a step towards me again and reached an arm out. I wanted to hit it away with as much force as I could, and when his hand made contact with my shoulder, I actually screamed out loud. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" The moment paused.

Nurses turned to look at me, confusion painted across their faces. Augustus had on a look of shock, and his hand quickly retreated. My chest was heaving as I looked around at the silence that I had created. "S-sorry," I muttered loud enough only for Augustus. He only stared, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I wasn't sure why, but it had been a long time before I had lost control like that, and I was scared. Whoever this man was – I was scared. I ran back to my room, where two nurses were already waiting for me.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"Do you need anything?"

"No." I wanted them to leave. I felt a prick in my arm, and they eventually did leave. Everyone left, and my dreams were absorbed by snakes and a high pitched, cold sounding laughter.

I woke up in a cold sweat. The laughter was still ringing in my ears, and when I tried to call for the nurses, I found myself unable to. It didn't take long to realize that a hand was covering my mouth. My eyes darted open, and I tried my best to scream – biting, kicking, and head butting my attacker. "HELP!" I screamed when my mouth was free. "HELP, SOMEONE, PLEASE!" Footsteps can running towards the door, and I heard a terrified voice yell, "COLLOPORTUS!" There was a blast of light, and the door started shaking with the nurses' feeble attempts to turn the handle.

"Let us in, Harry!" I heard my favorite nurse scream, as other babble about 'the insane boy locking out professionals' broke loose.

Instead I turned to my attacker, ready to demand him to reverse whatever he did, but gasped instead. "You!"

"Good job, mate, yes, me. Now grab onto my arm, I need to get you out of here."

He reached out to touch me, and I jerked away. "No! I don't want to go with you. You – you left me."

"I'll explain later, Harry, now grab on!"

"How do you know my na - ?"

"GRAB ON!"

I wouldn't. I wanted answers. I wanted the nurses to see that I wasn't crazy. "No, you come HERE!" I yelled. I ran to the door. He wouldn't get away this time. He jumped after me, but I dodged him easily, and he fell to the ground. I twisted the doorknob, against his complaints, and twisted it open. "There he is!" After two years of saying those exact three words, the nurses looked bemused at the stranger currently lying on the ground behind me. "I told you – he's real! And you didn't believe me and – "

Past my nurses, I saw Augustus, making his way towards the room. He raised a thin piece of wood in front of him, and curiously, I recognized it as the same sort of thing the red-haired man had used to lock the door. He held it out in front of me, and opened his mouth.

"AVADA KE – "

I heard the familiar crack, and my body felt like it was suddenly being sucked through a tight tube, and I thought I was dying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey again! Sorry this took a while to update...There's been a lot going on. Expect rather slow updates...But I'll do my best. ANYWAY. This is kind of a filler. Again, I don't really know where I'm going with this, so we'll just see. Maybe you could share your ideas in some REVIEWS? Or anything (: I don't mind. Thanks for reading! **

_Thump_.

I hit the ground, dizzy and confused. My chest was no longer compressed, and it took a moment to realize that I could breathe normally again. I stood up, wobbly, and took a look around the strange place.

Trees. Bushes. I even heard an animal scurrying around on the fallen leaves. I hadn't been outside of the Institution for two years, and now here I was, totally free. I remembered looking out of my window in my room, longing to be out in the green world, instead of stuck inside the white walls. I never thought that it would actually happen.

Then, I turned to my rescuer. He was still sitting, the stick he had used to lock the door out and pointed at his finger. He was muttering strange words, totally concentrated on his thumb. Then, I noticed that he was bleeding – his thumb nail had been taken completely off.

"Are you okay?" I panicked, searching my pockets for medicine and band aids. The nurses made us carry them everywhere with us, just in case we were to fall and scrape ourselves. When I had found one, I quickly opened it and handed it to the stranger.

He only laughed.

"You really have lost it, mate," he said before examining his finger again. "I'm no Hermione, but I think I got this okay. What do you think?" He shoved his finger before me, and to my surprise, his finger nail had completely grown back.

"How did you – ?"

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, would you please call for Hermione? She's got the stuff under too strong protection. I mean you'd think she would make it so WE could see it, but you know her, right? Bloody wanker. Anyway, she'd be better answering to you than me, probably pissed I went to see you out anyway." He looked at me expectedly, and I simply stared back.

"What?" I asked, totally confused.

"Oh bloody hell. Just say, 'Hermione', will ya?"

"Erm – sure I guess. Er – Her – Mione?"

It was suddenly like magic. My mind started playing in somewhat of a rewind. First, there was a confident, young girl with wild hair, wide eyes, telling me that I was Harry Potter. Then, she was hiding under a toilet stall, and I was on the back of some sort of monster. Then we were hugging, and I was bleeding, and then we were older, and we were hugging, and she was crying. And then there was this same girl, flying on what looked like a broom, and there she was with one of those sticks, colors shooting out of the end of it in all different directions. Then, my memory came to the photo that I had drawn, and the girl with frizzy hair matched her perfectly.

And when my mind flashed back to reality, I was in yet another embrace by this same girl – only she was a lot older and looked a lot more tired. "Oh Harry," she was screaming. "I thought I'd never see you again – the Order would have KILLED us if we had done anything – in fact they WILL kill us now that you're here – oh we're going to be in so much trouble but I've MISSED you – you look absolutely – "

"Oi, let him breathe. He needs the fresh air."

She stood back and took a long look at me, smiling all along. I liked her smile a lot. It seemed hopeful. "And so you're Hermione?" I asked, and got a reassuring smile. "We're – friends?" This time, a frantic nod, tears forming in her eyes.

"So that means…you're my friend to!" I turned to the red headed man. "If you know her, you're my friend."

"Of course I'm your bloody friend, Harry," he said, his ears turning red. "I didn't just rescue you because you're a stranger."

"I didn't need rescuing!" I said defensively. This seemed to be amusing to Hermione and – my friend, the red head.

"Same old Harry," Hermione smiled. "Now get inside here, I need to do the protection spells again…"

The man took me by the shoulders and started guiding me into a tent. Hermione pulled out her stick and waved it around foolishly, but I was still confused.

"Why did you take me here?"

"Couldn't let Rookwood kill you mate, could I? After the Order had been trying so hard, putting Diggle in there with you! Dunno how the Death Eaters even figured out where you were."

"Rookwood wanted to…kill me? Why?"

"Because he's working for Voldemort. Blimey, Harry, they told me you forgot some stuff, but not even remembering Rookwood? Now listen…Hermione and I have been working the past two years on some new plans, and I think that maybe if we get you – "

"Wait. You haven't even told me who you were yet!"

Silence. I looked at him, waiting for a name, but all I could read was pain behind his eyes. He opened his mouth a few times, only to close it again. "You – you don't know my name?"

"No," I said definitively, and again waited for a name that would send me once again into memories.

"Well. I'm Ron, mate. Nice to meet you, I guess. So uhh – you really don't remember anything, do you?"

I shook my head. The name Ron didn't do anything for me – it was as if my mind was blocking out any memory of him that I could try to find. Hermione – she I trusted immediately – seeing the memories of her created almost a comfort net in my mind. But Ron – I would have to trust him because I trusted Hermione…and Hermione trusted him.

"You never told me why you left." This seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Well, you see, Hermione started not letting me back in. She thought I was foolish for going, 'specially with the Order watching your every move, and the Death Eaters were on our tail, and I couldn't swing it. But that doesn't matter, I guess. You didn't know who I was."

"I missed you." And I did. His presence – no matter how insane it made me seem – made me feel like I had a guardian angel or something, even if it was a dangerous stranger out for my blood.

"Well we missed you," he said, smiling again. "Hasn't been the same without you." Something inside my tightened up, and his smile seemed to pull right at my heart. His eyes were sparkling, and suddenly, I started to remember. I wasn't quite sure what I remembered, but I remembered him, and I knew that whoever he was, I was in love with him.

And so I leaned in for a kiss, taking his lips unexpectedly, and those sparkling eyes widened.

"What the bloody hell was that?"


End file.
